In My Mind
by Kathryn Marie S
Summary: An AU look at the last book. If only the Golden Trio had known... HGSS
1. Legilimency Letter

A/N: All characters belong to JK Rowling. This is a bit of a twist on the last book and beyond. Reviews are loved.

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She had never been a young girl. Thoughtless or naive, perhaps, but ever ancient. It seemed ages ago that she had received that letter in the dead of night, the eve before the funeral. The light tapping at the window would have awakened her if Hermione had dared close her eyes. A raven was perched on the sill of the dormitory, a sealed envelope clutched in its beak. She rose and opened the window, allowing the raven passage. It fluttered to her bedside table and dropped the envelope against the dark slick wood. Without hesitation, the bird flew back out of the window and into the night. Hermione sat down on her bed, her eyes still red and blurry with tears, and checked the envelope for spells. Nothing dark caught her eye, and so she cracked the emerald seal with her finger and removed a piece of blank parchment. Confusion crossed her features as she turned the fine parchment over in her hands. After checking it once again for malicious spells, Hermione looked a bit deeper and became confused at the tangled web of charms she discovered embedded in the parchment. None appeared inherently dark, but she proceeded carefully, all earthly cares forgotten for the puzzle in her hands. As the wee hours grew shorter and lighter, the threads of enchantments began to hold still for her to analyze. When the sun's light began to brush the horizon, Hermione paused long enough to wash her face before returning to her new mystery. This time, instead of a blank piece of parchment, she discovered a page full of cramped, spiky cursive.

* * *

_Miss Granger,_

_ I am placing my faith in those associates of our world who have called you the brightest witch of your age. I am not one to place faith blindly. I trust that the events of the last week will cause suspicion in your mind and that you will not be as swift to reach hasty conclusions as others have been._

_ This is a Legilimency Letter. I believe that you will find nothing amiss in the spellwork if you are familiar with such a working. In case you are not, I shall confirm and explain the spells and their purposes. The parchment you hold has a twin, a replicate. Any changes you make to this letter will be immediately visible on its replicate. To protect our privacy, should anyone else see the parchment, it will be rendered blank and inoperable. I must stress to you that the creation of this device is not something to be taken lightly, and because of the quality of product I desired, waltzing into Flourish and Blotts was not an option. Most Legilimency Letters require you to physically write upon the paper, making the spellwork used to create them quite simple and easy to compile. I have spent a great deal of effort and time creating this parchment, for it is much more related to legilimency than its mass-produced relatives. You will find that if you imagine yourself writing on the letter, it will "write" your words in your handwriting, exactly as you pictured it. There is no proximity requirement for this function, it will work whenever and wherever you desire._

_ Now that we have that quite sorted out, I believe an explanation is in order. Miss Granger, I am rather sure that you are the only person who can help me. My recent stumble in popular opinion was unavoidable, and I wish I could say that I am surprised to find that my motives were not a heated topic of debate. My loyalties have always been questioned on both sides, but I fear that recent events have cemented beliefs that I am the wizarding world's most traitorous beast. There is one fault in their logic here, that I would like to point out if it has not yet begun to gnaw at your over-eager mind already:_

_ The Headmaster was many things, but he was not an idiot._

_ While the exact concepts that follow may not have occurred to you yet, I do hope that your exuberant passion for facts will make the truth easy for you to recognize once it has been revealed to you. Many witches and wizards have forgotten the differences between faith, hope, and trust. It is true that the Headmaster had hope for the wizarding world, and that good wizards still existed. It is also true that he placed a significant amount of faith in people because of this hope. However, Dumbledore was not a man who distributed trust freely. There were very few people that he trusted, and fewer, if any, that he truly confided in. Even amongst those, if all their knowledge of the man was brought together I still doubt that it would be either significant or revealing. He was a private wizard, which is something that I can both fully appreciate and admire._

_ So I ask you this, Miss Granger:_

_ Why would the most intelligent and powerful wizard of our time, a private man, one who did not trust with flippancy, place trust in Severus Snape if he were not fully confidant in his loyalty, not to any one man, but to an idea?_

_ I shall give you time to over-analyze that question to your little heart's content. I am sorry to say that you will not find the answer in Hogwarts: A History._

* * *

Hermione placed the parchment on her bed carefully, as if not to disturb it. She gathered her unruly hair in a bun and donned a robe over her pajamas before hesitantly taking the letter again and walking down the dormitory stairs to the common room. She chewed on the end of a quill as she paced, her most nerve-wracking habit, and puzzled over the letter. This was what had been bothering her, what didn't make sense. She had two options, really. Tell the new Headmistress McGonagall that Snape had tried to contact her, or reply to the letter. Between her natural curiosity and her Gryffindor hardheadedness, there wasn't much of a choice. _'Loyalty to an idea,'_ he had stated. Clicking her quill against her teeth nervously, Hermione sat down at one of the desks in the common room and placed the parchment down on the polished wooden surface. Slowly, she placed the nib to the letter and traced out a thought in perfectly neat script.

_ To what idea are you loyal, Professor Snape?_

His writing had vanished as soon as her quill touched the parchment. Now she sat with the letter on the desk, the end of her quill rolling between her teeth again, her slippered feet drawn into the chair with her knees against her chest. Hermione's large brown eyes watched the letter warily, no hint of fatigue in the way she stared at the page in anticipation, deadly curiosity. In the musty early morning shadows at Spinner's End, Severus Snape sat with a distant look in his eyes as he traced his thin lips with a long, pale finger. He closed his eyes for a long, pensive moment as he attempted to explain nearly two decades of servitude that had ended with an action that even he doubted.

_What I strive for is the destruction of the Dark Lord and the redemption of our time._

The spindly scrawl appeared on the page at a deliberate, careful pace. Hermione moved her lips as she read, tasting the words, feeling their overly smooth edges, words that were chosen with great caution and that answered wholly, but not excessively. She returned her quill to the page and Severus's words faded into nothing.

_What do you want of me?_

Severus smirked at her bluntness and the thought that the bold girl who was so good at answering questions had apparently also acquired the skill of asking them. He pursed his lips and returned his hand to the parchment.

_An open line of communication, Miss Granger. There is a great need to reduce the amount of damage caused by the Headmaster's death. The Order has lost one of their most valuable advantages: knowledge. I propose that you only allow me to inform you as I did the Headmaster, no more. You may make your own decisions about what to do with that insight._

Hermione leaned forward in her chair, her fingers laced under her chin, elbows propped on the table as she stared at his message. She read it over and over again, searching for some hidden risk. There was little, if she took his offer at face value and offered nothing in return. The professor hadn't asked for anything in exchange, and she would give nothing.

_What would you have me know, Professor?_


	2. Little Whinging

A/N: Thanks for the reviews you guys, here's a new chapter! I promise it picks up soon!

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Hermione logged every detail that the Professor gave her over the next couple of months at the Burrow. She kept a small leatherbound notebook, enchanted so that some of the pages expanded when they were opened to, displaying lists of Death Eaters and their whereabouts and assignments. Everything was recorded to perfection, every detail, every possibly useful bit of knowledge. Two weeks before the Order was to move Harry, the Professor sent her a list in his cramped, spiky hand.

There had been a mass breakout at Azkaban, and the Death Eaters' numbers swelled. Mrs. Weasley seemed to be constantly nipping at Hermione's heels, scavenging for scraps of conversations about their upcoming plans, but Hermione could pay her no mind. Every waking moment was spent poring over pages and ideas, lists of what they would need to take with them. She compiled an encyclopedia-sized list of possible ways to destroy a Horcrux. The revised count of Death Eaters was the last message she received from Severus before the night that the Order was to move Harry. While she was preparing to leave for Privet Drive with the rest of the group, Hermione felt a familiar sensation tug at the edges of her mind. She ducked into the washroom and removed the Letter from its permanent place in her pocket. As she had sensed, a new message was there in dark green ink, much neater than his usual handwriting and mind-written no doubt.

_Take care._

Hermione stood there dumbly with the parchment clenched so tightly between her fingers that it was a blessing that it didn't tear. She couldn't reveal to the Order members that Severus knew. How did he know? Surely the other Death Eaters were aware as well. Take care? But that would suggest that...

She nearly leapt from her skin when Ron shouted for her. They were leaving. They were all walking into a trap, and she could not risk telling them so or Harry would lose the only hope of surviving the upcoming year that he had. She joined the others, numb and silent with fear. Kingsley clapped her on the shoulder as they gathered for the trip to Little Whinging and the blow seemed to make her bones reverberate in her skin. The trembling traveled into her stomach, where it bounced and shuddered against itself for the entire flight. Her fear continued to contort her insides as the Order prepared for the return trip with Harry. Her silence ate away at her. Picturing the letter in her mind, she impulsively reached out for reassurance.

_So this is what it feels like._

Miles above, Severus Snape felt a familiar tug and thought of the letter. As the image formed in his thoughts, the words that Hermione had written became visible. His stomach twisted upon itself with a single great wrench, and he, for a fleeting moment, was brought back to the first time he knelt at the Dark Lord's feet and twisted the truth, planting lies to save lives. It felt like someone had replaced his organs with ice water, to think that he placed her in the same situation.

_Yes. I am sorry._

An odd calm overtook her as Hermione stood by the thestral with Kingsley, staring into the summer night sky. If she warned them, they would demand to know how she knew. If she revealed her communication with Severus, Harry would not take her guidance on anything, and he may not even allow her to accompany him. No. Sacrifices must be made. The Order would understand later. They had to. Hermione clenched her jaw and swung up onto the thestral behind Kingsley and the Order launched into the sky. Her fingers tightened around her wand as they climbed higher and higher, the sudden appearance of Death Eaters causing her no surprise. She reacted quickly, shooting off hexes into the night sky while many of the other Harries were still trying to get a grip on the situation. The pairs split off as they had planned, and she kept one arm tightly around Kingsley as she fought. Hermione kept grasping at spells that would hinder the Death Eaters but not kill them. However, she lost her head when one came too near and hit him square in the chest with a Stunning spell. He tumbled through the darkness, but not before his hood fell back and the red flash of light revealed that she did not know him. Suddenly there was silence. She and Kingsley had passed through the protection spells at their safe house. As they waited for the Portkey's departure, the numbness melted away from Hermione. Her hands and knees trembled, and her mind raced with fear for the others. The older wizard pretended not to notice, chalking it up to the flight or the battle, but Hermione had more pressing matters on her mind. They had been outnumbered two to one and a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach whispered that lives may very well have been lost. The pull of the Portkey only nauseated her further and she thought she would be sick, until she saw Harry. She ran faster than she probably ever had and flung her arms around his neck._ He's safe_, she thought. _Everything's fine._

But it wasn't. George had lost an ear because of her silence, and he had nearly lost his life. Tonks, Ron, Bill, Fleur, Mad-Eye, and Mundungus still hadn't returned. _They just got married,_ she realized, standing next to Lupin in the yard. _They have only yet begun to love._ Her heart grew heavy in her chest as they waited in a silence that hummed with unimportant noise. Hagrid, and then Harry and Ginny, joined them in the wait. As the minutes passed, Lupin's mouth set into a hard line and his face began turning a pale green. Maybe they weren't coming. Maybe this was all that was left. She wanted to scream, to cry, to tell him it was all her fault, that she was sorry. The tears welled in her eyes as they waited, every moment making the air thicker between them until they were separated by impenetrable walls of worry, alone in their vigils. A streak of color appeared above them, and Hermione shouted with joy as Tonks and Ron skidded to a halt in the yard. Tonks and Remus held each other tightly, and Hermione flew to Ron, her heart beginning to lighten again. However, there were still four missing, and the group was only momentarily distracted from the frightening tardiness of the other members. The wait grew more and more ominous.

Bill and Fleur landed amongst them, and they were welcomed with relief. Mrs. Weasley went forward to hug her son, visibly relieved to have her family safe, but Bill seemed far away.

"Mad-Eye's dead." Hermione felt her stomach twist and heave. She slipped away from the group of Order members and stumbled into the Burrow to be sick. She lingered, trembling, in the washroom to try to compose herself. She failed, and turned quickly to empty her stomach again. When she came out the others were standing in the Burrow's sitting room Bill proposed a toast in his honor, and Hermione toasted vigorously. The firewhiskey burned inside her, but not bright enough to pierce the fog. Mad-Eye Moody was dead, and it was her fault. She felt a tug at her thoughts and instantly the frustration and guilt she had felt over the last several hours bubbled up and threatened to strike out of her. Hermione ran up the stairs in the Burrow to the room she shared with Ginny, and fell onto the bed before allowing her mind to wander to the Letter.

_Three are dead, including the man that you Stunned. I trust that the Order has escaped without significant loss?_

Hermione rolled over and buried her face in her pillow, blocking out the light of the room as she replied.

_Alastor Moody is dead._

A long silence followed. Severus sat down at his desk in Spinner's End and rested his elbows on the worn and polished wood. His fingers were laced at his chin, one idly tracing the edges of his scowl at the death of Alastor. His dark eyes narrowed and he picked up his quill and turned to the parchment.

_It sorrows me to hear it. Is George well?_

Hermione smiled a hair despite herself.

_He is well. His ear cannot be replaced, but now we can tell which is which. _

_I believe that would have been of great assistance several years ago._

Miles away from each other, they both smirked. Suddenly Hermione was struck over the shoulders with a great and terrible exhaustion. Fighting to stay awake, she managed to send him one last sleepy message before her body gave in.

_Does it ever get any easier, Severus? The lying._

At Spinner's End, his head sank forward and he wished for a moment that he could reassure her, that he could offer her some condolence. He wanted to tell her that it got easier, that it wasn't always as frustrating as it was in the beginning.

_No, and I do not believe it would be a good sign if it did._


	3. The Wedding

A/N: Okay, so the arse end of this chapter is absolute crap. I blame a small baby with colic and the fact that there wasn't much that has changed from the book yet, besides the addition of Hermione's perspective. Only a bit more boring and then we get to the interesting things, I promise. Read and review, my lovelies.

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That night, the nightmares started. Hermione dreamed that she was flying on a broom alone through a cold and foggy night. She was being chased by dozens of Death Eaters and her heart pounded wildly in her chest. Her clothes were drenched from the fog and it was a struggle to keep her hands from slipping off the polished wood of her broomstick. Curses hurled through the air, turning the sky around them a sickly color. She was having so much trouble flying she hadn't had a chance to defend herself. After what felt like hours, she clenched her teeth and turned, firing a Stunning spell at the closest assailant. The light illuminated the air around him like a mist of blood, and as he fell back his hood was thrown from his head, revealing the bright blue eye of Alastor Moody. He berated her as he plummeted to his death, wagging his finger like a parent scolding a naughty child.

"Constant vigilence, Miss Granger!"

She awakened with a start, barely stifling her scream as the glass of water at her bedside table exploded into powdered glass. A quick glance across the room told her that Ginny had not been awakened. Being the youngest of so many boys had apparently made it necessary to hone her ability to sleep through anything. Hermione got up and cleaned up what was left of her glass and returned to bed, though she did not return to sleep. The rest of the nights before the wedding were no different. Every night it was the same dream, every night Hermione woke about to scream. She tried to stop sleeping, throwing herself into packing instead. The minutes crept by. Mrs. Weasley's endless assignments did not make the days go faster. Severus wrote her the day after Harry arrived to tell her that Rufus Scrimgeour would not be Minister of Magic for much longer, and that the Ministry was going to soon be under the Dark Lord's control. He urged her to take every precaution with preparing, and to be ready to leave at a moment's notice when the Ministry fell.

The days leading up to Harry's birthday were a blur. Mrs. Weasley kept them busy and separated, but Hermione didn't mind. The time alone gave her time to think and talk to Severus. He had been helping her choose what books to take, what information to have on hand in the days to come. He was quite knowledgeable and helpful with this, pointing out things she hadn't thought of and occasionally, to her pleasure, pointing out things she already had covered. When Scrimgeour arrived at Harry's birthday party, she sent Severus a quick message.

_The Minister is here alone. He isn't obviously hostile._ Severus received this with concern. He tapped his fingers together contemplatively and replied.

_He is most likely unaware of the danger he is in. However, be cautious. He may be grasping at straws._ Hermione nodded, which she quickly realized was silly. She joined Ron, Harry, and the Minister in the Weasley's sitting room, squeezing next to Ron on the couch. He rested his hand on her knee but she didn't even notice. Her mind was busy trying to guess the Minister's reason for being there, and attempting to stay one step ahead of him. When he mentioned the reason for his visit, Dumbledore's will, she couldn't decide if she was more furious or relieved. She could practically feel Severus waiting on pins and needles, so she assuaged his fears.

_It's about the Headmaster's will. The Ministry has been holding his posessions for analysis no doubt._ When the Minister handed her the book that Dumbledore had left her, she felt tears sting in her eyes. 'What do you want me to do with this, Headmaster? I am in over my head and you left me a book?' She smiled in appreciation of the thought, and added another thing onto her list of tasks, figure out the purpose of the book. 'I doubt I'll have much time for light reading.'

After having dinner and cake, the Trio went to bed with infinitely more questions, and still no answers.

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Hermione woke early the next morning to help with the wedding preparations. Luckily, she and Ginny had already done most of the work, and Mrs. Weasley was far too scatterbrained to notice. She spent most of the day deep in thought and talking to Severus.

_The Tales of Beedle the Bard. He left me a book of children's stories? I don't understand._ _I doubt there's a hidden message in it, the Ministry would never have released it if there was so much as a comma out of place. Perhaps it's some sort of symbolism. "Go adventuring and take lots of books."_ She sighed in frustration and straightened out a tablecloth with a bit more force than necessary.

_Well, Granger, you certainly have that covered. _Hermione smiled at his remark. She was starting to appreciate his sense of humor. It was unusual but tasteful. She continued to make small adjustments to the table arrangements, mostly biding her time. They chatted back and forth, bouncing ideas between them in a friendly manner until Hermione heard Molly Weasley yell for her from the door of the Burrow.

_I must be going now to get ready for the wedding._ She regretted putting an end to their banter. She had grown fond of having someone to discuss more intelligent subjects with. She smiled an odd little smile at this thought, thinking that it was a shame no one else seemed to be fond of talking with the Professor. He could be an ass at times, but he helped her greatly in studying about the Horcruxes and other, related, kinds of dark magic.

_Take care. Do not allow the wedding to drop your guard. You must be prepared to leave at any moment, the Ministry will not last much longer, and it may fall today._ Hermione assured him and hurried upstairs to get in line for the shower. Towelling off, she used a spell to dry her hair and keep it in check. A simple bun was all that she attempted, and it turned out wonderfully. Mrs. Weasley shuffled her into her dress and made the necessary alterations with a quick charm. Hermione admired herself in the mirror and made a mental note to ask Molly how to use the tailoring spell, thiygh she had never given much effort to such magical frivolty.

The wedding was spectacular and surreal. It seemed to exist outside of the world, outside of the worries and troubles of the war, outside of the mundane adacemic existence. Hermione found herself envoius of Bill and Fleur, sure that she would never experience anything so amazing for herself. Thinking beyond the war was impractical. As one of Harry's best friends, it was unlikely that she would even see the end of it. She was no fool, she was well aware of this. Young as she was, she accepted it. A happy ending was unlikely, and even if she survived, Hermione wondered if she would even have someone to share her life with as joyously as the bride and groom did. Tears welled in her eyes and she stared at the grass beneath her feet, refusing to give in to the temptation to cry.

She could walk away if she wanted. She knew that. She could. However, Hermione would not turn her back on Ron and Harry. They needed her help, Severus's help, if they were ever to make it out of this alive. She set her mouth grimly, brushing away the last cobwebs of silliness. No, there would be no decadent wedding in her future, and it was childish to bemoan the fact. She joined the reception, frustrated with Ron's jealousy, for Krum was in attendence. She danced with Ron, her mind wandering from the dance floor to the place where Hermione Granger kept everything she needed. Lists and plans formed in her mind's eye, connections dancing among them cryptically. Ron parted from her at the edge of the floor, going to fetch a round of butterbeer and Hermione sat down at Harry's table, exhausted. She had only begun to catch her breath when a Patronus leapt through the crowd, the large cat landing in the center of everyone's attention. The lynx opened her jaws and Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice echoed forth.

_"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."_

Hermione and Harry both jumped up from the table and pushed through the crowd of panicking guests, trying to find Ron. Suddenly he appeared from the crowd and seized Hermione's arm. She disapparated and they reappeared in a crowd of people.

"Where are we?" said Ron.

"Tottenham Court Road," she replied. "Walk, just walk, we need to find somewhere for you to change." She guided the pair through the crowd and felt slightly worried about her packing. Hopefully she had everything they needed, there was no going back now. She sent a quick message to Severus.

_We are well._ The trio hurried into an alley and Hermione fished their clothes from her tiny beaded bag, the contents of which were extensive, undetectably extended to be exact. They changed quickly, Harry hid himself under the Invisibility Cloak, and then they continued down the street, eventually ducking into a grubby cafe. Hermione sat across from Ron, with her back to the entrance, and Harry slipped in beside him undetected. They debated the next course of action heatedly, Hermione constantly glancing over her shoulder at the door. She was nervous. Something felt wrong. Terribly wrong. A pair of burly men sat down at the next booth. She couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching. Suddenly the two men drew their wands and Ron lunged across the table, pushing her out of harm's way. Harry fired curses back and the cafe descended into chaos. When the two Death Eaters were subdued, they questioned what to do with them. Hermione erased the two men's memories as the boys cleaned up the cafe. She was not sure that her spell was effective, she had never attempted memory magic before except on her parents, but it would have to do. Dusting off her hands and catching her breath, she tried to regain a sense of calm and sent another note to the Professor.

_Two Death Eaters followed us. We aren't sure how._ When the cafe was cleaned, Hermione took hold of Ron and Harry and they disapparated to Grimmauld Place, having decided that their odds were better out of the public eye.


	4. A Turn in the Tides

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews. Over 1500 hits! Let's keep it up, shall we? Sorry for the cliffie, but you know I'll update soon. :) I'm hoping to get another chapter up tomorrow night. Now that we've broken from the book's story line, things should go much quicker. Read and review, lovelies.

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Grimmauld Place was like a vacation. Ron's family sent word that they were well, and a huge weight was lifted from the trio's shoulders. It was also a great relief to discover who R.A.B. was and make an attempt to recover the Slytherin locket. After the incidents with Mundungus Fletcher and Remus, things were almost normal. They studied about the Horcruxes and prepared for their mission at the Ministry to steal the locket. It was no piece of cake planning an infiltration that would extend so far as Dolores Umbridge's private office. Hermione fretted herself in circles with what-ifs and the boys were long exasperated with this by the time that Harry announced they were going to do it the next day. She was not least distracted by her secondary task. Hermione had kept in contact with Severus during his month as Headmaster, and they were attempting to narrow down and find the remaining Horcruxes. It was agreed by all of them that there would be a Horcrux for each House, and the possibilities were endless.

Hermione put this from her mind, however, as they prepared to go to the Ministry of Magic. There were so many things that could go wrong. She could not afford to be distracted today. She recited the plan in her head even as she Stunned the witch she was going to be disguised as, Mafalda Hopkirk. Unfortunately, things took a terrible turn once the three of them managed to get inside. They were separated, and Hermione was forced to go with Umbridge, of all people. She watched the proceedings in the basement with horror. Muggleborns and even some half-blooded witches and wizards were lined up and convicted of stealing their magic, one by one, without fail. She wanted to vomit. She needed a shower. Hermione pressed her nose nearly against the parchment, telling herself it was silly to think they would suddenly turn on her too. Silly or not, she was both petrified and enraged.

Harry scared the living daylights from her when he sat down behind her and spoke. She didn't allow him to distract her, however, and continued taking notes of the proceedings. When Umbridge leaned forward and the locket swung forward, Hermione had to fight the urge to yank it from her ugly toady neck. Luckily, Harry seemed to agree, and Stupefied the hag. Before the flash of red light had even begun to fade, Hermione was scrabbling for the chain. He Stunned Yaxley as well, and the two of them removed the woman being questioned from the chair and hurried for the exit. As they hurried into the hall, they encouraged the other waiting people to do the same. They nearly made it out of the Ministry without further incident, but the Atrium was an uproar of chaos. Harry grabbed Hermione and Ron's hands and the three of them Apparated back to Grimmauld, but something felt wrong. Hermione only caught a glimpse of the door of Grimmauld Place before she realized that the person holding her other hand was not Ron. Yaxley wrapped his arm around her waist with a sneer and turned on the spot, whisking her away.

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_Severus, I've been captured. _Hermione gritted her teeth through the pain as Yaxley gripped a handful of her hair and dragged her through a wrought iron gate, lifting his left arm before them as he did so. She screamed and kicked out, connecting several times with his shins before he boxed her ears and shoved her head down, forcing her to walk bent at the waist and unable to kick at him any longer. Hermione clawed at his arms, only succeeding at pulling at his robes. He barged through a large wooden doorway and into an impressive hall, portraits and suits of armor lining the walls. She screeched again and lashed out, but she was incapable of causing any harm to him at this point. She could see nothing but marbled floor and a large Oriental rug ahead of them. Suddenly, Yaxley flung her forward and she fell on the rug face-first, struggling to push herself up before his boot landed squarely between her shoulderblades and pushed her nose back into the thick tapestry.

"My Lord," he murmured, a hint of malice and pride in his voice.

"Ahhhh, Yaxsssley," came the reply. "What have you found usss?" Hermione shuddered and screamed, trying harder than ever to push herself up. The only answer she got was pressure from Yaxley's heel. It dug into her back so hard she saw stars behind her eyes and struggled for breath.

"The Mudblood friend of Harry Potter, my Lord. They infiltrated the Ministry." She heard a long hiss, and then a chuckle.

"They thought themssselvess clever. Well, they were correct. You will be spared punissshment for bringing her to me. Leave usss." The foot was removed from her back, but Hermione didn't pick herself up immediately. Her stomach had turned to ice water; she was terrified to be left alone with this monster.

"Yes, my Lord. Thank you for your mercy." She slowly pushed herself up to stand, only seeing the edge of Yaxley's robe as he left the room. Voldemort was sitting before a fire place, his pale inhuman skin glinting malevolently in the dim light.

"Sssso, you are the infamousss Hermione Granger. I mussst admit, I am impressssed." His thin mouth contorted into a grimace-like smile. "You ssssuccesssfully broke into the Minissstry. Quite a feat for a sssschoolgirl." She fought the strong desire to vomit at the leer he gave her. "However, you are now at my mersssy." He grinned and leaned forward, eyes flashing playfully like a child with a toy. "I will confesss, I am not particularly merciful." Voldemort paused for a moment, folding his hands and standing to face her. "I undersssstand that the three of you have learned about my little ssssecret. This is, of course, unacceptable." He strode forward and grabbed her jaw with surprising strength, forcing her face upward toward his. "I have a little sssurprise for you. Seeing as you have proved yourssselves so adept at dessssstroying my little trinketsss, here is one more."

She tried to scream, to fight, but it was too late. Voldemort pressed his wand to her temple and stared into her eyes with his unnaturally red and lidless ones. A spell crossed his lips, twisting the air around them into a darkness that seemed to grasp her very soul and clench it tight, binding it to a force so evil she felt it eat at her insides like acid. Voldemort laughed and released her face and she crumpled into a heap on the carpeting.

"Go back to your friendsss Hermione Mudblood Granger. Tell them what you are." He picked up a trinket, whispering over it before throwing it against her. The small statue glowed blue, and Hermione felt an all too familiar tug in her stomach and found herself on the ground in Diagon Alley.


	5. Dark Arts

A/N: Aaaahhh! I didn't get it up the next day like I thought I would! A certain baby decided that sleep is for losers. Enjoy, loves.

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Hermione reeled in the street, disoriented. Diagon Alley swam in and out of her vision. Ghost-like figures in black cloaks lingered around her in a circle, blinking in wavering reality like demented sunbeams. She felt a sick elation as they tortured a mangled Muggle woman. A thin figure leaned against her provocatively, her hood falling back and revealing the haunted and haunting features of Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione recoiled from her icy touch and into a passerby. He pushed her back in horror and mouthed words she could not hear over the screams. The people in Diagon didn't seem to notice the havoc in their midst. She screamed, a strangled sound that seemed oddly far away as a flash of eery green light illuminated the huddled broken form. An older witch touched her shoulder, the worry and puty in her eyes quickly replaced by fear. Hermione stumbled away from her and directly through one of the cloaked figures, who dissolved into a cloud of humanoid mist. She turned and ran through another Death Eater, who vanished similarly. They seemed to follow her, lurking in the corners of her vision as she tried to escape them. Hermione entered the Leaky Cauldron, hoping that the crowd would drive them away. Instead, they chased her inside while seeming to pay her no mind. The scene shifted and some of them vanished, but more victims appeared as well. She sat in one of the booths, trembling and terrified. The other patrons regarded her with hesitancy and some, outright fear. They looked at her like she was insane, and she was starting to wonder herself. The waitress blatantly ignored her existence, refusing to go near her. Finally Hermione began to stop panicking enough to get her head on straight and send a message.

_Severus, I need help._ She began to fidget, picking at her nails nervously, staring down at the table in front of her, terrified to look up and see the shadows again, but she couldn't look away from the screams. After what seemed like ages, she felt the familiar tug in her mind.

_What happened?_ His words were hastily scrawled across the letter, and she knew he was concerned.

_I don't know. He did something to me. I think... I need someplace safe._ There was another pause, and she began gnawing on her lip. Another wail shook her bones, and Hermione jumped so badly that she bit down on her lip, drawing blood.

_Apparate to the edge of the grounds, by Hagrid's hut, I will meet you there._ She got up abruptly and hurried out of the pub, trying as hard as she could not to run. As soon as she reached the street, she turned and felt the tightening of being that would hopefully bring her to safety.

* * *

She collapsed on the ground in the pumpkin patch next to Hagrid's hut, mildly surprised that she hadn't splinched herself. The screams still followed her, and she knew that if she looked up from the rich, dark dirt she would see the cloaked men still surrounding her. Hermione didn't know how long she sat there in the dirt, but when Severus took her hand to help her stand, she realized that there was blood on her hands from picking at her nails so badly. He lifted her to her feet and grasped her chin roughly, turning her face up toward his. She had been crying and tears were dried on her cheeks, but she was still surprised at the look of revulsion that crossed his features. Severus took her arm and led her back to the castle after Disillusioning them. He took her to the Headmaster's office, his office, she reminded herself. He pulled a chair back for her, guiding her into it and then turning to a simple tea service, pouring steaming water over a silver tea infuser, steeping the herbs with a practiced movement. Hermione trembled, watching his long fingers as they worked swiftly and with a subtle precision. He kept his eyes down, watching the tea, and then staring at the desk when he sat across from her and handed her a mug. She took it carefully, the liquid still sloshing from her shaking hands. When he looked at her again, it was coolly, and with an air of guardedness. She met his gaze, and noticed the slightest flinch, just the whisper of a crease between his eyes that wasn't there the moment before. He left his cup on the desk untouched and folded his hands, his index fingers pressed against his mouth, leaning forward. He was contemplating something, and soon voiced his question.

"Hermione, what happened?" Tears started flowing from her eyes again and she made herself focus on the tea in her hands. She took a sip and felt a level of peace flow over her, the screams of the tortured dulling to only a distant throb.

"I don't know. Yaxley captured me when we were at the Ministry." Severus nodded for her to continue. "He took me to Vo-the Dark Lord, and he did something to me." The crease between his eyes deepened as he sat, clearly waiting for her to elaborate. "I... I think he made me a Horcrux. Can you even do that?" Her mind had not even begun to grasp this, but it made some sense. He had made one of Nagini, so a living creature was possible. Severus leaned back, tracing his lips with one finger, deep in thought.

"I would not have thought it possible, but the idea would not even occur to most. As we know, his depravity goes above and beyond the normal realm." Hermione nodded and took another drink of her tea, feeling the effects settle over her mind like a comfortable, welcome fog. "I've given you a Calming Draught, in case you hadn't deduced as much already." She nodded again, and returned to sipping at the warm beverage.

"Thank you." Severus seemed oddly taken aback at this, but bowed his head in acknowledgement before returning to the task at hand.

"What are the effects of what he did?" Hermione shuddered involuntarily and took a deep steady breath.

"It's... it's like living in a pensieve. I see them around me, like ghosts. I can hear them..." Her voice faltered and the tea sloshed, startling her silent. The corners of his mouth turned down and his lips pressed into a thin hard line.

"You must know, Hermione, that this has taken a toll on your physical appearance as well." She looked confused, and he added quickly. "Perhaps you should see for yourself. It would be best to place your cup on the table." She did so and he transfigured a quill into a handmirror, offering it to her. What she saw made her drop the mirror. It struck the ground and shattered, but the image could not be destroyed, for her eyes were the same blood red as Voldemort's. Hermione brought her feet into the chair and cried, pressing her eyes shut tightly. It was real. He had really done this to her.

Severus didn't quite know what to do with her. He busied himself with cleaning up the broken glass and looking anywhere but at the crying young woman in front of him. After some time had passed and her sobs turned to periodic hiccups, he ventured to speak again.

"What do you need to do? Will you return to Harry?" Hermione shook her head hard, but did not open her eyes.

"I can't. They'll... they'll think I'm dead." She looked up at him and again he had to fight the urge to shudder, "I have to find a way to destroy it. If I cannot destroy it without destroying myself, then... then they will not have had to know." Severus nodded once, already contemplating the future.

"Where will you go?" She frowned and looked away again, shrugging.

"I don't know."

"You will stay here." Hermione stared at him in shock. "I can make adequate living arrangements for you, and assist you if you desire it." She smiled in gratitude and thanked him.

"Actually, there is one thing that I may need help with." He looked at her questioningly. "Alastor's eye, I need to learn how to make a spell that will act in the same fashion." He understood immediately, and stood to escort her to his living quarters.

* * *

His sitting room was dark but comfortable, a large black leather sofa faced the fireplace, and the walls were lined with bookshelves. The floors had thick rugs that fought off the chill of the stone floors. Severus gestured at her to sit down, and left the room for a moment, returning with a length of white cloth. He sat beside her, and cast a charm over the fabric before offering it to her. Hermione took it and placed it over her eyes, turning her head so that he could tie a knot against the back of her head to hold it in place. He felt a surge of pity, no, sorrow, at this simple act and she turned back to face him. The cloth covered her eyes, a simple but effective blindfold.

"Is it adequate?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you. I can see perfectly." She seemed relaxed now, and while the cloth was a reminder to him of what lurked beneath, Severus found it much easier to speak with her now.

"I have made arrangements, the castle will provide you with anything that you need. Your rooms will be through that door," he gestured to a heavy wooden door in his sitting room. "I trust you know that you cannot leave my quarters. Should your presence be revealed here, it would be beyond disastrous. The house elves are loyal, they will help you with anything you need." The corner of her mouth twitched downward at this, but he ignored it. "Exercise caution when using my library, and do not use my laboratory without my express permission and supervision. Many of the books here are dangerous or deadly. Do not forget that." Hermione nodded. "Now, I will have a house elf bring a Dreamless Sleep to you in your rooms. Rest. There will be time to work later."

Hermione stood and thanked him again, crossing the room to the door he had pointed out earlier. With her hand on the handle, she paused and turned back to Severus, who was standing by the fireplace. She did not quite know why she hesitated or why she looked at him, but neither could he explain why he had stood to watch her leave.


	6. Know It All

A/N: Wow the holidays hit me hard. Here's an update, thank you for reading, lovelies. Reviews are amazing!

* * *

A shriek and a crash awakened Severus and he dashed out of bed, grabbing a robe hurriedly and running to Hermione's room. He opened the door to find the girl huddled in bed, eyes wide with fear. He flicked his wrist, clearing broken porcelain from the floor to avoid treading on it. In her fright, she had caused the simple basin on the nightstand to shatter. Luckily, it was a modern and simple piece and would be easy to replace. He sat down at the edge of her bed, summoning a house elf and another vial of Dreamless Sleep, this from his own stores. He should have known that the standard dosage would not last her through the night. Hermione was a mess. Her face was pale, her hair wild, and she was clutching the coverlet against her mouth, and her scarlet eyes were wide in terror. The stopper on the vial vanished and Severus moved closer to her, pulling her hands and the blanket away from her face and speaking soothingly.

"Rose, would you please get Miss Granger a cup of tea?" The house elf nodded vigorously and disappeared from the room, leaving Severus to quiet Hermione in peace. He held her hand in her lap and pressed the flask against her lips, prodding her to drink. She seemed only vaguely aware of his presence, her eyes trained on the shadows of atrocities that lurked in only her vision. After several moments of trembling silence, she complied. Severus set the empty container on the nightstand and took the offered tea from Rose. He wrapped Hermione's hands around it carefully, making sure her grip was steady before releasing the cup. She stared directly ahead, her lips pressed tightly together. In this moment he was struck by how different she looked from her school days. It was only a few short months ago, was it not? She would have been in her last year. Searching back in his memory, Severus recalled a startling similarity between her appearance now and Narcissa's at the same age. A wave of repulsion swept over him as he could not tear his eyes from the dark circles and heavy shadows that haunted her once girlish features. The resemblance was shocking. Even as he thought this, Hermione clenched her jaw and closed her eyes for a breath longer than a blink, a subtle gesture that he had seen Narcissa perform countless times when the Dark Lord was more difficult to bear than usual. The two of them sat in silence together for several minutes, both too pensive to speak. Hermione closed her eyes and turned her head toward him ever so slightly, a thought trembling at her lips.

"Severus?" She bowed her head and pulled her hair back and he took the blindfold from her nightstand and placed it over her eyes. His fingers moved deftly, tightening the knot gently and lingering, uncertain, at the nape of her neck. Hermione folded her hands in her lap, the corners of her mouth turned downward in a thoughtful hush. Severus pulled away from the strip of cloth, his hand accidentally brushing her shoulder. She leaped, startled, and let out a quiet gasp. Hermione gripped the bedclothes tightly, still trying to regain her calm even after she had realized that it was only him.

"I am sorry." He looked troubled as he watched her, and she shook her head slowly.

"It is fine, I'm sorry if I frightened you. I was just starting to fall asleep I believe and it is... difficult to grow accustomed to." The guarded expression returned and Severus cursed silently at himself for bringing her mind back to this place.

"Here," he offered, taking her hand and leaning her back gently to rest. Hermione seemed to be becoming a little disoriented and drowsy, a side effect of the potion. "Sleep well." She yawned and burrowed into her pillow, smiling the slightest of smiles. Severus pulled his hand from hers carefully so as not to disturb her, and walked toward the door.

"Sleep well, Severus." He was half asleep in his own bed before he realized how easily she spoke his name.

* * *

Her awakening in the morning was much calmer. Hermione sat up and stretched, refreshed by the relieving silence of sleep. She had not stirred once in the night since he had left her. Hermione rubbed her face with her hands, still getting used to the cloth over her eyes. A crack sounded beside her and she turned to see the house elf from last night standing at her bedside with a tray piled with food. Rose set the tray down on Hermione's lap and lingered pointedly. She began to eat the food, especially enjoying a cup of Severus's tea - she could tell its maker instantly from the intoxicating aroma. Holding the mug to her lips, Hermione breathed in and tasted mint and a subtle hint of some sharp tart herb she did not know the name of. As the food before her disappeared, Hermione found herself picking at the remains more often and actually eating less. The tea tasted just a hair too smooth, and she guessed that it had a calming draught in it, much like the cups from the night before. She pulled a biscuit apart and nibbled at it thoughtfully, only now paying enough attention to her surroundings to realize that Rose was still standing next to her, staring.

"What is it, Rose?" The house elf bowed her head.

"The Headmaster tells Rose to make sure the Miss eats all the Miss's breakfast before she reads the Headmaster's books." Hermione laughed and finished the tray off, to the house-elf's approval. She got out of bed, crossing the stone floor to the washroom. There was a set of clothes laid out for her: a pair of comfortable jeans, a soft gray sweater, and thick socks. The room was elegant but simple and she admired the ivory tiles of the shower as she turned on the tap. The water drowned out the screams of the tortured and gave her some time to relax. A while later she emerged from the bath clad in a fluffy towel and surrounded by steam heavy with the scent of chamomile. Hermione dressed and placed the cloth over her eyes. She padded across the cold hard floor and entered Severus's sitting room. She gathered a stack of several books before sitting down on a thick rug and scattering the tomes around her. Rose appeared bearing another cup of tea and a pile of parchment and quills. Hermione accepted them graciously and the house elf blinked out of the room with a gleeful smile. She flipped open the first book and began taking notes of its contents. His library was extensive, and there was no way to assure that she was being thorough without reading every volume from cover to cover. She intended to do so, and took to her task with passion. The apparitions that surrounded her faded to only a minor distraction, an annoyance. They clawed at the edges of her thoughts but she focused on her studies with a single minded determination. The hours passed and the firelight radiated warmth into her core. Keeping busy would be her salvation, and discovering a cure was a goal that she could latch on to. Hermione made meticulous logs of any spell or herb she found that would be considered purifying, purging, or healing. She also took notes whenever she ran across something that would be able to destroy a Horcrux under normal inanimate circumstances.

* * *

Severus found her still engrossed when he came by his quarters after he left his office. It was taking some getting used to, not having ridiculously horrendous papers to mark and the Potions classroom to clean nightly. He had grown accustomed to retiring to his rooms for the evening meal and found this habit hard to break, especially in light of the Carrow's presence at Hogwarts. He had their dinner brought to the small dining room adjacent to his library and pulled her away from her work, quite nearly literally. Hermione walked like a person dazed with sleep, her movements were oddly loose-jointed and thoughtless, her mind and precision still wrapped up in the puzzle in her brain. Severus gestured to a chair at the small table and she sat, eating but silent and more absent than not. There was no conversation over dinner, the two of them ate slowly and without interruption. Hermione's thoughts were jumbled but she sorted through the mess and tried to collect together the useful things she had found that day. The more she considered the strength and complexity of the working that would be required to remove the Horcrux, if such a feat was even possible, would mean a binding that played on every field of magic. It would take more than even Gryffindor's know-it-all had in her repertoire. She pondered this, chewing it as she chewed on the last few bites of her dinner. Hermione turned her face up, catching Severus's eyes on her. It was odd, it seemed as if he was looking into her eyes but she knew he could not possibly be. His expression was serene and pensive. He had waited until she was finished eating, but now would be the time to speak.

"Miss Granger, I trust that you found my collection to be suitable?" She nodded and thanked him for the use of his rooms.

"Whatever I may do to help. Have you made any discoveries yet?"

"Nothing definitive. I have a couple of ideas for the structure, but it will be a long process." She looked down at the table, feeling a little discouraged. Hermione had not even made a dent in his library, she had only gotten part of the way through the first book. It was not light reading, and there were so many possibilities to consider.

"Of course," Severus's tone was kind and reassuring. "There is far more ground to cover in that room than I suspect even you tread upon in your stay at Hogwarts. I am sure that you know well enough to keep notes and references of anything that could be of use." She nodded again and Severus looked pleased. "Come, then. Let us go over what you found today." He led her to the sitting room and took a space on the couch before the fire, gesturing to the empty seat and leaning forward as she passed him her notes. He read them quickly, finding her work as flawless and precise as it was in school. She had made impressive headway with the first book.

"So, Miss Granger, what are the ideas that you have?" Hermione picked at the hem of her sweater nervously, gathering her thoughts.

"The structure will have to be multi-faceted, complex. The intention will have to be clear from even the base ingredients. The purest and strongest ingredients must be used, if there is a way to spell them more potent it should be attempted. I think that the best way to attempt this would be in a potion, it will allow for more focus and more layers of augmentation to better reach the goals. I'm sure that I will not find anything that specifies how to remove a Horcrux from an animate host without destroying the host, due to the unusual nature of this occurrence." Severus nodded slowly in agreement.

"I believe you are correct, creating a new potion that utilizes as many of the different branches of magic as possible is most likely the best bet. This will be a long process, and it will require significant research before we even attempt to begin preparing and brewing. Do you understand that?" Hermione's lips thinned, her expression both determined and grim.

"Yes, Headmaster. There is no other choice besides death." Her bluntness caught him off guard, she was a Gryffindor through and through.

"Very well. You need to rest. While you are here you will eat at least two regular meals and will not work after the evening meal. It would be far too easy to burn yourself out with such a large task. Keeping to a healthy schedule will insure that you will be able to keep a good pace. This is not something that will be accomplished in a week's time, regardless of how long you spend working each day. Tired and hungry work is sloppy, imprecise work. When you begin preparing ingredients, I will be there to assist you always. Working alone on something as experimental as this is very dangerous and will not be permitted. Now, you may retire to your rooms for the evening." Hermione felt slightly put off by him treating her like a child, but as she got ready to go to bed she understood the wisdom behind his words. She had already been thinking about what to accomplish after dinner, but now that she was slowing down for the day and had been dismissed to her rooms she found herself exhausted. Rose appeared just as she was finished dressing for bed, bearing the night's potion. Hermione drank it quickly, hopeful that the night would prove less eventful and worrisome than the night before. It hit her quite swiftly and as she climbed into bed she realized that it was much stronger than the one Severus had given her yesterday. She smiled with this thought, glad to be welcoming the silence of sleep.


End file.
